Essence
by AJzkitten69
Summary: Buffy reacts differently to Spike's denial at the end of 'Chosen,' and they both make it out alive. Except Spike's vamp healing seems to be gone, and now they have to deal with each other, the losses they've suffered, and their new chance at life. Spuffy
1. Chapter 1

Essence

Chapter One

Years before the moment in the bowels of Sunnydale, Buffy had realized that, in times of extreme distress, old habits had a tendency to come out of the woodwork. Of course, most of her life was made up of extreme distress, so there weren't a lot of habits that she had the time or the will to break.

But she had been fairly sure she wouldn't be punching Spike in the nose for some time.

Of course, that was until he said the stupid thing.

Her fingers laced with his, and she barely noticed their entwined hands lighting on fire. It didn't hurt, just felt pleasantly warm. The warmth traveled up her arm, down her spine, and into the pit of her belly, where it exploded outward through every nerve. She was suddenly presented with one astonishing fact. She supposed she'd known it for ages, but it had been so lost among all of the chaos of her life that she'd somehow missed it. But Spike needed to know. He _deserved_ to know.

"I love you."

Spike gave her a sad smile, and replied, "No, you don't. But thanks for saying it."

The warmth in her flared up to blinding heat, and Buffy did the only thing she could really think of to do. She did it without even thinking about it. He was determined to die here, and she was not going to let him. He didn't get to be let off that easily. So she punched him in the nose, ignoring the instant burning and then extinguishing of the flames in their hands. Then she ripped off the amulet and dragged him to the exit of the cave.

Their injured hands aggravated each other with the contact, but Buffy continued to ignore the pain, focusing only on getting both Spike and herself to that bus in time.

"Oi, Slayer, I'm coming! Let go of me!"

She used the momentum of his movement to swing him around in front of her once they got up into the school and pushed him towards the exit, just to make sure he didn't dart back down into the Hellmouth to finish the job. If anything got to kill this particular platinum pain in her ass, she'd damn well earned that right.

He did glance back to make sure there was no way to get back down without barreling through her, but it only took him a fraction of a second to decide it wasn't worth her life to ensure his hero's death. He ran for the exit, hitching his duster up over his head as he moved. Buffy followed closely at his heels.

Robin was just gearing the bus up for their departure when he saw the black-clad blur heading for the bus. He almost left anyway, except for the other blond he saw behind the vampire. He sighed and opened the bus door, allowing the smoking vampire to enter, only to trip on the stairs. Buffy, unable to stop, simply jumped on top of him and nodded to the ex-principal. He stepped on the gas and drove them out of Sunnydale, barely ahead of the collapsing hole that used to be the town.

* * *

It wasn't until Buffy looked for a thick blanket to cover Spike with, in case of sunlight, and found nothing, that she realized that he really hadn't intended to make it out of the Hellmouth alive. He had been so sure that he was going to die down there that he hadn't even prepared for the possibility that he wouldn't.

She shook her head. She'd have to be pissed at him later. Right now he was extremely weakened, singed, and huddling under one of the seats. Nevermind the hand that could be mistaken for a crispy critter, not unlike her own.

Finding nothing suitable to cover him up with, besides the duster he was already wearing, she ducked down onto the floor to meet his eyes. "I am so gonna kick your butt later. Forget to bring a blanket?"

Spike averted his gaze, suddenly finding her burned hand very interesting. "Yeah. Must be it. Suppose I'll just stay down here then, yeah?"

She shook her head. "No. I've cleared out the backseat. If we fold down the seat from the emergency exit, it's a bigger seat and you can stretch out a little. Not a lot though, because we'll have to cover you up with your duster. It'd be better than the floor, anyway."

"Fantastic," he agreed. He moved to get out from under the seat and tried to avoid any sunlight he could. Luckily, the sun was pretty much above the bus, so there wasn't a lot of direct sunlight, but Buffy wasn't going to be taking any chances. He groaned with the movement. "Bloody hell. Don't think I've ever been this sore, pet."

"I know," she replied quietly, taking his unburned hand with hers and leading him to the back of the bus. She pushed down the seat, making one long seat that stretched from one side of the bus to the other. Spike shrugged out of his duster and handed it to her, then laid down on the seat, curling up into a fetal position to be sure the duster would cover him. She pulled the coat over him, then sat down next to his head. She put her hand between his head and the seat. "Up," she said gently. He obeyed, and she scooted a little closer to his body, then put his head down on her thigh. She adjusted the duster again, just to make sure no sun would touch him. Then, her hand still under the leather, she ran her fingers through his hair slowly and, she hoped, soothingly. "Rest."

"Where we going?" he asked, the exhaustion coming through in his voice.

"Los Angeles. We're meeting up with Angel until we can figure out something more long-term."

Buffy could feel his jaw clench. "Great. Why didn't you just let me die?"

She smiled. More jealous vampire crap. At least she was used to that. She knew how to deal with it. Unlike whatever was next with her and Spike. That would be new territory. It terrified her. "Shh. Go to sleep. We'll talk about my intense need for you to stick around and your stupid suicidal urges when we're settled. I promise. Just rest for now, okay?"

Spike didn't answer her, but he did turn his head and press a kiss to the palm of her hand before he returned to his position and went to sleep. She continued to lightly run her fingers through the hair she could reach.

Eventually, she started to doze until a pothole in the road startled her out of it. When she opened her eyes, Willow was looking at her with a worried look on her face. Buffy still felt the soft locks under the fingers of her uninjured hand, and they managed to quell the short moment of panic she'd felt immediately upon waking.

"How is everyone?" Buffy asked quietly. She knew the volume didn't really matter. If Spike was still asleep through the racket of the other Slayers, her volume wouldn't do much to jar him. But she didn't feel right talking at her normal volume.

Willow understood, and lowered her volume to match Buffy's. "The Slayers, the ones that made it out, will all live. You know how Slayer healing is. So long as we get the thing trying to kill you guys away before it succeeds, you can heal from just about anything. Some will take longer than others, but they'll make it. Robin's in pretty rough shape, but Faith managed to stop the bleeding, so once we get him to a hospital, they should be able to patch things up. And Xander is..."

Buffy cast her eyes to her old friend. He was sitting near the middle of the bus, staring out the window as the road passed by. "Yeah," she replied. "I noticed that Anya was..." She looked down as a tear made its way down her cheek. "It'll be hard. But we'll help him through it."

The redhead nodded as she looked at the leather covered lump that was Spike. "That's new."

She didn't have to ask what she was talking about. "Yeah," she said again. "But it's really not, at the same time, you know? It's all new and...surprising, I guess. But it also feels like its somewhere I've been before, like something just snapped back into place. Something good though, which means it can't be somewhere I've been before." She shook her head, forcing the ramble out of her brain. "Are you...?"

Willow smiled. "Buffy, if you're looking for condemnation over an unconventional relationship from me, you're looking in the wrong place. I won't lie and say that I won't worry, but...well, there's not much bad I can say about him right now, seeing as how he just sort of saved the world and stuff."

"That's not why I..." Buffy started, but she was cut off.

"I know. I'm not blind. The last few weeks...well, it was pretty clear to all of us how you feel about him. Even Xander," she added with a chuckle.

"Yeah. Clear to everybody except him," she said, running her fingers through his hair again. "You know he actually had the nerve to tell me I didn't love him after I finally told him I did?"

"You know...we never really talked all that much about what your relationship with him was like, but from what you _have_ said...there's a lot of damage you guys will have to work through. It could be that you'll end up finding out that all you guys can really do for each other is cause pain. Not that I'm saying you will," she amended quickly after she took in the look on Buffy's face. "I'm just saying that, if he says something stupid like that, you can't hold it against him. Long hard road out of Hell, right?"

Buffy raised an eyebrow at her friend. "You listen to Marilyn Manson?"

Willow rolled her eyes. "Kennedy does."

She smiled as Spike moved in his sleep and caught her hand and pulled it down over his chest, hugging it like a child would a stuffed animal. "We've got a lot of girl talk to catch up on, don't we?" At Willow's nod, she said, "I'll tell you everything once we're settled. Though I do promise to leave out the more graphic details."

The minor shifting to accommodate Spike's new hold on her hand had brought her burned hand into Willow's sight line. She'd actually forgotten about it until the widening of her friend's eyes brought it back to her memory, and the dull throbbing pain came back. "Gods, Buffy, what did you do, stick your hand in a pot of boiling oil?"

Buffy studied her hand. The healing had started, but it was moving slower than her Slayer healing usually did. Still a lot faster than a normal human's would, but it was sure taking its sweet time. "Spike's probably looks worse. It was so amazing, Will. He was standing there in the sunlight, and it was just shooting out through the amulet. He told me to leave and I held his hand, and our hands lit on fire. But it didn't hurt. I don't even think it started to burn us until I had to punch him in the face to get him to come with me."

"Wow. Did you bring the amulet? I'd love study it."

"Yeah, I brought it. Its in my bag up front." Spike shuddered in his sleep and squeezed her hand tighter. She squeezed back, hoping it would comfort him. "How long do you think until we get to L.A.?"

"Not much longer. I already called Angel. He and his people will meet us at his hotel, and one of them will take the bus to the hospital, along with anyone who needs it. Maybe you should have that hand looked at."

"No," she said quickly. "I'll stay with Spike. It'll heal."

Willow nodded and walked back to the front of the bus. Buffy closed her eyes again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine.

**Author's Note: **As any reader of my _Veronica Mars_ story can tell you, I love my cliffhangers. I swear, I don't do them on purpose. It just usually turns out that I can't figure out a place to end a chapter well that isn't a cliffhanger. Anyway, enjoy!

Essence

Chapter Two

A hand lightly shaking her shoulder brought her out of a fairly good dream. "Spike?" she asked sleepily.

"Dear lord, I hope not," Giles said. "If I am, then I shudder to think of who that is curled up in your lap."

She smiled and looked around. The bus had stopped and emptied, with the exception of her Watcher and Spike. "We're here?"

"Yes, and I even parked in the shade so you can get him inside."

"You're growing as a person, Giles," she replied as she brushed the duster away from his face with her arm, so as not to disturb her burns, and then shook the hand he was holding to try to wake him up. "Come on, Spike. We're here."

He groaned, but released her hand and rolled slightly to look up at her. "We're where, Slayer?"

"Angel's hotel," she reminded him.

Another groan, much louder this time. "No thanks, pet. I'll just stay in here. I think if I concentrate really hard, I can block out the smell of hormonal teenagers. This will do me just fine."

"It will not," Buffy said firmly. "We're going inside and we're getting a room and sleeping until we're all healed up. But again, inside. With real beds and ample protection from all that harmful daylight."

He met her eyes. "We?"

For a moment, she hated herself for putting that hesitant note, that doubt, into his voice. She knew what he was really asking. He was asking her if now, in front of other people, they were still...whatever they were. Before, they were lovers, except when her friends showed up, and then they were back to being acquaintances, at best. She wasn't sure how she could prove to him that this was different, except...

"Hey Giles," she said, catching the older man's attention. He'd been very much concentrating on looking at anything other than the blond couple, but now he looked back to Buffy. She hadn't looked at him, instead keeping her eyes locked on Spike's. "I'm in love with Spike. Okay?"

"Bloody hell," Giles muttered, shaking his head and walking off of the bus.

Spike watched him leave. "Right then," he said as he stood up and pulled his duster back on. He gave Buffy his unburned hand to pull her to her feet.

She stumbled, falling into his chest. "Sorry...my leg's asleep. Your head has been on it for like two hours."

"I'd offer to carry you, but my hand is..." He looked, for the first time, at his his hand. "Not healing," he finished.

"Mine's healing slower too. Maybe it's because we're so tired?" she asked.

"Maybe," he agreed, but the concern didn't leave his face until after they'd walked into the Hyperion.

"Buffy!" Angel exclaimed as soon as she walked in the door. Then his eyes flickered to her hand, joined with Spike's, then to their matching burn wounds. He looked like he was about to start arguing her decision, and one glance at Spike's face told her that he'd be all too willing to go head to head with his grandsire, no matter how much his energy had been depleted in the Hellmouth.

She squeezed his hand, and looked back and forth between the two vampires. "Jealous vampire crap later, okay? For now, how about you just point us to our room?"

She watched as he decided three different times to argue with her, and then changed his mind each time. "Room 313 is open and prepared for guests," he finally said.

"Thank you, Angel," Buffy said, pulling Spike to the stairs. They were both asleep within ten minutes.

It was night time when Buffy woke up. Just after three in the morning, according to the clock on the nightstand. She lifted her head from Spike's chest, where it had been resting, and studied his face. She'd almost lost him. It was almost ridiculous how, in her mind, she'd come to think of Spike as the one who would always be there. She didn't know when it had stopped being her friends, but in the past months, she'd become so accustomed to him that she'd never actually contemplated what it would be like to lose him. Through the years, she'd thought countless times about how heartbroken she would be if she lost Willow or Xander or Giles, but it had never even occurred to her that Spike was breakable too, and could also be taken away from her.

"Enjoying the view, love?" Spike asked, startling her back to herself. His eyes hadn't opened, but she shouldn't have been surprised that he knew she was awake and watching him.

Instead of answering his question, her eyes fell to her hand. It wasn't even half-healed yet, and she knew she should put a bandage on it. Spike's hand didn't look like it had started healing at all. "You're still not healing," she observed.

He opened his eyes to look at his hand. "Huh. I am still a vampire, aren't I?" He went into game face, and then quickly shifted back into his human visage. "Can still do that. Still hear your heart beat."

"And you're still room temperature, no heart beat, and the sun didn't seem to like you much." Buffy's stomach grumbled. She blushed as he grinned. "Could that be it? You need blood?"

"Maybe," he said again.

She sat up and turned on the bedside lamp, looking around the room for her clothes. She'd gone to sleep in just her bra and panties, and Spike had slept in his jeans. She tossed his shirt to him and started to pull her own on, despite the blood from when she'd been skewered. So she wasn't looking at him when he spoke up, his voice almost too quiet for her to hear.

"If you want to take it back, I'll..." He wanted to say he'd be okay, but he decided against it, instead going with, "I'll understand."

"I don't want to take it back," she replied, sitting back down on the bed. "Listen, Spike, I know we've got more than our fair share of history to work through. And I know, after everything, it will probably take a while for you to believe me. But I'm telling you now, when your life isn't in danger. I love you. I'm just sorry that it took me so long to realize it."

She saw it in his face that he still didn't believe her, but there was a kind of cautious hope in his eyes when he replied, "I love you, Buffy." He sat up and pulled her to him, kissing her softly, hesitantly. She let him. They'd never been gentle with each other, and after so long, it felt good to simply relearn his mouth and remember how his kisses had always made her unsteady on her feet.

After a few minutes, at her initiation, the kisses became more urgent, if only so she could show him that it was okay. They'd been broken so many times, most often by each other, that she felt the need to let him know that she was still strong. She still wasn't a china doll, and soft and delicate and vanilla, while it could be amazing, wasn't all they were. And they definitely couldn't get by being only that for more than a night or two consecutively, much less the rest of their lives. Or hers, anyway.

Buffy's brain was practically whiting out in her desperation to get closer to the vampire, so she didn't think about how much it would hurt to wrap her burned hand – didn't even remember it _was_ burned, in fact – around Spike's head to make sure he didn't pull away. But her startled intake of breath brought an end to the mood in a hurry. Spike moved away and took her wrist, examining her hand for himself.

"Best get that all bandaged up, yeah. Wouldn't do for you to survive an apocalypse just to die from an infection."

"You too," she replied, nodding at his hand.

"Yeah," he agreed, pulling his shirt on. He winced when his burned flesh scraped across the fabric of his t-shirt the wrong way. Buffy noticed, and her brow furrowed.

"Should we be worrying about this? I mean, it's definitely out of the ordinary, and that rarely leads to anything of the good."

"I might point out again that you just saved the world. We'll worry tomorrow. So long as it's not getting any worse, it can wait."

Buffy didn't bother to agree with him, but she didn't push it any further either. They made their way downstairs in the hope that at least one of the people who inhabited the hotel could point them in the direction of blood and bandages. True, it was a time of night when most normal people were asleep...but with the lives they led, it was unlikely that everyone was asleep at any given time.

They got lucky, and found a brunette waif behind the counter. They hadn't met her when they came in, but Buffy recognized her from Willow's description. "Hey," Buffy said as they walked down the stairs.

The woman nearly jumped out of her skin, but still looked up and cast a dazzling smile in their direction. "Oh, sorry. I thought it was just me down here. You're Buffy and Spike, right?"

"Yeah," Spike answered. "How'd you know?"

"Oh, well, you two are all couple-y, and I figured that there can only be so many 'platinum pests' that Angel could spend a whole three hours brooding about. I'm Fred."

The blond couple exchanged a look, agreeing without words that one of their new favorite people was the energetic, if somewhat strange, tiny woman currently giving them her attention. They finished the walk to the counter and smiled at her.

"So I sent the Broodmaster General into a funk, did I?" Spike asked, not even trying to hide his grin.

"Oh, don't get me wrong. He's got a lot to brood about. You just took him off his regular schedule. So, what can I do for you?" Fred asked.

Buffy held up her burned hand. "Bandages. Accelerated healing isn't what it used to be, I guess. Also, Spike could use some blood, if you've got some on hand."

"Oh, of course! God, you must be starving after all that fighting for your life!" Fred disappeared behind the counter, and reappeared with a first aid kit that rivaled the size of the one Buffy kept in the house in Sunnydale, before it was a big crater. Then she ducked down again and came up with a glass and a plastic package of blood. She quickly and efficiently emptied the package into the glass, and then popped it into a microwave, also presumably behind the counter.

While it was heating, she opened up the first aid kit and starting pulling out bandages. "Wow," Buffy said, startled. "You're really good at that. The blood preparation. Seriously, I'm on my second vampire boyfriend, and it still sort of squicks me."

"Well, somebody's gotta make sure he eats. Cordy used to do it. She used to do the patching up too, but I've gotten pretty good at it. So, who's up first?"

Before Buffy could volunteer Spike, he nudged her closer. She rolled her eyes, but laid her hand across the counter for Fred to look at. She hadn't noticed the absence of Cordelia, but she'd only been in the hotel for about two minutes outside of her room. However, the way Fred was talking about her made her worry. "What happened to Cordelia? Last I actually talked to her, she was way more freaked by blood than I am. And not much with the caring and concern for others." The stricken look in Fred's eyes made her add, "I'm not saying I didn't like her. We used to be friends, actually. It's just...hard to imagine her the way you're talking about her. So what happened?"

The microwave beeped and Fred handed Spike his blood, which he sipped slowly. "Well, you know about the visions, right?"

"I thought it was the Irish guy that had the visions," Spike put in.

"Doyle," Buffy clarified.

"Oh, well, he did. But when he died, he passed them onto Cordelia. Only, the thing is, humans aren't really strong enough to bear them, so after two years with them, they were killing her. So she became part demon in order to be able to handle them. She told us that she actually got the chance to rewrite time and have her perfect life that she always dreamed of, but she couldn't give up on helping people, so she went part demon. But long story short, the demon thing was the first in a whole big series of events that opened the door for her body to get hijacked by some fallen power that used her to give birth to itself, and she's been in a coma ever since." As she talked, she'd been rubbing some ointment onto Buffy's hand, and as she finished, she started wrapping gauze around it. "We're all real broken up about her. She was a real champion, you know?"

The Slayer was shocked, though she managed to keep her jaw off the floor. The girl who called her a freak, who warned her away from Willow and Xander...she had more or less sacrificed her life to the service of the greater good. "Yeah," she agreed quietly. "God, I really wish I stayed in touch with her."

Spike ran a comforting hand down her back to rest on her spine. "It's okay, pet. We're here now. It's a mystical coma. We'll do what we can to help. Could be if the Watcher lends his squishy frontal lobe to the research, we might be able to find a solution."

Fred secured the gauze on Buffy's hand with medical tape. "Next!" she chirped. Spike gave her his hand as Buffy pulled hers back. "We'd sure appreciate your help. Cordy was really the heart of our team. I mean, I do what I can, but I'm no champion. And I'm definitely not one for the fighting."

"She wasn't always either," Buffy said softly. Her brain was replaying hundreds of memories of Cordelia, and she couldn't seem to stop the endless parade of thoughts of her old friend. They only came to a halt when Spike ran his thumb over the small of her back in soothing circles, and she realized that the girl she was remembering wasn't even close to being the same person Fred had the full on hero worship for.

Fred pulled the blood out of the microwave and handed it to Spike before she started to work on his hand. "Oh, Angel taught her how to fight. And that's when I started seeing it. Saw it before anybody else did, even them."

"Saw what?" Buffy asked distantly, her mind still on her memories.

"Well, Angel and Cordy. You know, in love."

Buffy stared at Fred in shock, but Spike didn't bother. He just studied her reaction to the news. "Well, I think that tells me everything I need to know." He quickly drained the glass of blood and plucked the bandages out of Fred's hand, then grabbed the tape as well. "I'll be up in the room once you're done mooning over your honeybear."

He was gone before Buffy could think to respond.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Still not mine.

Essence

Chapter Three

Buffy looked at the stairs for a good thirty seconds after Spike had disappeared up them. Finally, she looked back at Fred. "I'm sorry, I should go deal with my vampire. He's got some Angel-related jealousy issues. It was really nice meeting you though."

She turned to follow Spike, but had only made it two steps when she heard, "Hey, Buffy?" from Fred. She turned again to see Fred holding out a sandwich to her. It was pre-wrapped, probably from a gas station or a convenience store, and Buffy's stomach growled at the presence of food. "I know it's not much, but we weren't exactly prepared for company just yet."

Buffy took the sandwich, and the ointment from the counter. There was a label, which confirmed her suspicions of its origins, denoting it as peanut butter and jelly. "Thank you," she said with a smile. "I know feeding an army of teenage girls won't be easy...we don't have much money..."

"Don't worry about it," Fred cut her off. "Angel will explain later, but...well, let's just say that money isn't an issue."

She nodded. "Thanks." Then she walked up the stairs.

She found her vampire sitting on their bed trying to wrap his own hand in gauze and failing miserably. "Buggering hell!" he growled at the offending medical supplies.

"You know, if you yell at it, it feels less inclined to obey you," she told him, unable to stop the small smile that crossed her face.

He glared at her. "Thought you'd be off crying your guts out that Peaches has eyes for the cheerleader."

"You really need to stop jumping to conclusions," she replied. She put down her sandwich on the table and grabbed one of the chairs, then dragged it over to the side of the bed, so she could sit facing him. She took his hand and untangled the gauze. "No ointment?"

"I'm a vampire, love. Not gonna get an infection," he replied.

"So? It still feels nice." To prove her point, she opened the small tube and rubbed it gently over his burned flesh.

For a moment, his eyes drifted closed as he reveled in the feeling of her fingers drifting over his. "Mm. Tingly." He sighed, then asked, "If that look wasn't about you being jealous, then what was it, Buffy?"

"When Angel came to Sunnydale to give me the amulet, he was almost sort of hitting on me. I sent him back here...but now I find out about him and Cordy, and it feels like he was trying to cheat on his comatose girlfriend with me. And that was the look you saw. It wasn't jealousy."

"Next you're going to tell me that while part of you will always love him..." Spike trailed off.

"Yep. Part of me always will. But the majority of me? All about you. Anyway, it's not like you can tell me that your relationship with Drusilla really meant nothing and that you never think about her." She started to wrap gauze carefully around his hand.

"Yeah, but...she's not here. Angel is." His eyes met hers. "And I hate the way he looks at you."

"Then next time, you can concentrate on how _I _look at _you,_"she told him.

Spike sighed again. "I'm sorry. You know, a century and a half of being jealous of that ponce, watching as Dru chose him time and again...so if I act like a git about him from time to time, keep that in mind and try not to punch me in the face for it."

"I can do that. And didn't you know? I'm actually on a twelve-step program to relieve me of my addiction to punching you in the face." She studied the job she'd done wrapping his hand and, deciding it was satisfactory, started to rip bits of tape to secure the gauze.

"Yeah? Which step are you on now then?" he asked. His good humor seemed to have returned along with hers.

"The one where I apologize to everyone that I've hurt by punching you in the face. I think that's just you though, so..." She finished taping the gauze and leaned in to kiss him. "I'm sorry, Spike."

"I am too," he murmured against his lips. "For everything."

"You're already forgiven." She was interrupted by her stomach, as it once again protested not being fed. She rolled her eyes and picked up the sandwich. It took her a moment of trying to figure out how to unwrap it before she gave up and simply ripped the packaging, and the sandwich was gone in record time.

"So what now?" Spike asked. "Hellmouth's gone. More than enough Slayers to go around. You gonna try your hand at a normal life again or what?"

Buffy shrugged as she dug through the one bag she'd packed before getting on the bus. "Well, I thought, first, I would sleep. A lot. After that...who knows?" She sighed, pulling out a clean shirt and boxers to sleep in. "I guess buying a new wardrobe should happen soon. Then...I don't know. There's a Hellmouth in Cleveland, so maybe that. Or maybe Angel's got an apocalypse I can work on." She shrugged again. "I'll – _we'll_ – figure it out. But no normal life for me here. I get twitchy when I'm not fighting to save the world. So no...no normal life. Not ever."

Spike got up and wrapped his arms around her from behind. "Does that bother you? Giving up on all that?"

"Not really." She leaned back into his embrace. "I've finally figured out that normalcy bores me to tears."

He pressed a kiss to her neck, right below her ear. "Good."

She couldn't hold back her yawn. "Still tired. Apparently ten hours of sleep just isn't enough for me these days."

"Laziness is allowed after beating back the First Evil." He let her go so she could change into something not covered in her own blood.

She discovered that she only had one other outfit, besides the shirt she'd chosen to sleep in. Mr. Gordo took up the room another outfit could have had. "Yeah, definitely shopping the next time we wake up."

* * *

They ended up regaining consciousness a little before 9:00 in the morning. Their matching burn woulds still hadn't made much progress in the healing department. Buffy silently unwrapped and redressed his hand, and then her own, with his help, before finally broaching the subject again. "Okay, now I think it's officially time to start worrying."

"You too. Shouldn't you be all healed up by now?" he asked.

"Yes. I mean, we're not talking third degree burns here. We should be, considering our hands were _on fire,_ but the actual injuries aren't as bad as they should have been, so we should both be healed. And I'm at least healing a tiny bit faster than normal human rate. Have you started healing at all?"

Spike made a fist, winced, and then relaxed his hand again. "A little. About normal human rate, I'd wager," he answered, borrowing her phrase.

His calm demeanor was really starting to irk her. "You're not even a little freaked out by this, are you?"

"A little, yeah. But I'd rather not panic until I know more." He caught her uninjured hand and pressed a kiss to it. "We'll get the Wonder Watcher Twins on it, pet. They'll have it figured out in no time."

"I hope you're right. Because a Slayer that doesn't heal quickly is a Slayer that won't live long."

That seemed to finally kick his worry into high gear. He got out of bed and threw a shirt on before grabbing her hand again and dragging her out of the room and toward the stairs. All of this happened so quickly that they were on their way down the stairs before Buffy thought to respond.

"Spike! What are you doing? I have to get dressed!"

"You are dressed."

"I slept in these clothes! I need to shower, I'm all dirty and gross and smelly."

"Smell fine to me."

"Spike!"

"You're right. We need to have them on this right away. Can't have us healing slowly. Obviously something's wrong, and we need to be worrying about it right now."

"But five seconds ago, you said..."

"Nevermind five seconds ago. Changed my mind."

"I probably won't even be fighting anything for at least a few days..."

"Doesn't matter. Something could bust through those doors any second."

Spike found Giles, Willow, and several of the mini-Slayers eating at a large table that had been set up in the lobby. He stopped so suddenly that Buffy ran into his back. "We're not healing," he told them flatly.

"Come again?" Giles asked.

He held his hand out for inspection. Even with the gauze, it was easy to tell that the burn looked bad. "Got burned yesterday. Slayer too. Should be healed by now, but it seems like I've barely started." He inclined his head toward Buffy. "Same with her. Fix it."

Giles appeared flustered at Spike's usual bluntness. "Spike...it's not that simple. We need to do research to discover the cause, and then possibly more research to learn how to set things to right. I can't simply snap my fingers and fix everything."

Spike turned to Willow. "You can. Do it."

"And risk unbalancing the universe? I'm all for the researching and finding out what's wrong, but the 'snap my fingers and make it happen' variety of magic is really bad for me. And you know, everything else in the world."

Spike was about to continue to argue when Buffy elbowed him and then detached her hand from his grip. He, of course, responded by wrapping an arm around her waist. She rolled her eyes, but allowed it. "Sorry, it seems like he _just_ figured out why exactly us healing slower is more than just an inconvenience."

Willow smiled brightly. "Well, we're on it, okay? Um, I'll check out the amulet, see if that has something to do with it. Giles, do you wanna take First detail? See if there was some spell to weaken them or something? And I guess we could get Wesley to investigate if there's anything about being so deep in the Hellmouth itself that could cause this. Anything else you think we should cover?" she asked, looking at both of them, then to Giles, who was cleaning his glasses with more ferocity than was strictly necessary. He shook his head.

Buffy looked at Spike, then back to Willow. "The way the burns happened...what I told you yesterday," she added with an uncomfortable glance to Giles. As much as she wanted to shout about her love for her vampire from the rooftops, Giles was still practically her father, and her little display the day before had been more than pushing it. When Willow's nod confirmed that she knew what Buffy was talking about, she continued. "It might have something to do with us. I don't know why or how...but I guess you should investigate us too."

Willow hesitated, then nodded again. "Okay. Um, and Buffy?"

"Yeah?"

"Xander's staring at you right now from across the room, and he looks very...shocked. And not pleased."

Buffy turned to look at her old friend. He met her eyes, and as she was feeling the familiar stab of guilt for his other eye, he turned and walked into the courtyard. She sighed and kissed Spike softly. "I'm going to go talk to him. And no offense, but I think it'd be better if it was just me."

Spike kissed her forehead. "I'll go get the amulet for Red. Where'd you stash it?"

"In my bag, side pocket."

He nodded and was gone. Buffy felt Willow squeeze her hand in support, and then she followed Xander into the sunlit courtyard.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Still not mine.

**Author's Note:** Not a whole lot of Spuffy interaction in this chapter, but these talks needed to happen, and if I put the extra Spuffy in, the chapter would have been twice as long...which I'm sure no one would have minded, but it would also have taken twice as long. Anyway, I hope you're still enjoying.

Essence

Chapter Four

Buffy found Xander in the courtyard, sitting on a bench in a patch of sunlight, his feet up on the bench so he could rest his elbows on his knees. His face was tilted up to catch the rays, his eye closed against the light. Before she could announce her presence, he spoke up. "I wanna ask you something, Buffy. And while I won't say that I don't care what the answer really is...I'd rather have the truth than a lie. Even if I hate the truth."

Buffy crossed her arms around herself defensively as she took a seat on another bench. "Okay. Ask."

"You were in love with Spike before he had a soul."

_As far as questions go, that wasn't one,_ Buffy thought, but then he turned his head to her and opened his eye to study her, so she figured that was what he wanted answered.

"That year..." she started, and then stopped. It was so hard to talk about, even to Spike. It was hard to think about. But she wouldn't deny Xander his answers. Not after he'd lost so much. "That year was so hard and brutal. So was our relationship. I was so dead inside and so convinced that he was a monster, I didn't think it was possible for me to love him. Honestly, the idea never even occurred to me, except when he would shove it right under my nose."

Xander, ever intuitive, caught the direction she was heading. "But looking back?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Hindsight being twenty-twenty, I can say that yes, I did love him then. Before the soul. Maybe even before I died. It came on so gradually, it's hard to pinpoint."

Xander shook his head, but didn't say anything, once again choosing to turn his face up to the sun.

After a few minutes, she asked, "Are you mad at me?"

He shook his head again. "No, I'm mad at me. And, at the same time, I feel like this huge weight's just been lifted."

"You never stopped loving her." Just as he hadn't asked a question, neither did she. Of course, she'd already known that. He'd told her as much when Anya went on her frat boy killing spree. But it finally hit her full-force. It had been quite a while since Spike willfully and consciously killed a human. The same could not be said of Anya.

"You fell in love with him before he had a soul. And I kept loving her after she lost hers. I don't know which one is worse, or if they're even all that different. Did you..." He paused. He knew very well how much his next question could hurt, but he needed to ask it anyway. "Did you stop loving Angel when he lost his soul?"

"Angel? No, I never stopped loving Angel. But I never loved Angelus either. But then again, I'm sure you'll agree that Angelus on his best behavior was way worse than soulless Spike ever was."

He nodded. "Yeah. Not that he ever had any good behavior, but I guess Angelus is a pretty hard guy to love."

"Yeah...maybe that's why he's such a jackass all the time."

"I'll try to be nicer to Spike," Xander said, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Why?" Buffy asked, too shocked to be appreciative.

He chuckled. She thought it might have been the most painful sound she'd ever heard. It sounded like laughter was the only possible way he could keep from screaming. Still, he said, "Well, if you'd prefer I didn't, it'd probably be easier for me...less awkward for him..."

She shook her head. "No, sorry...you just surprised me. Just...where is this coming from?"

"I've been thinking about all of our evil friends. Angel's only good because he's cursed that way. Soon as he gets a happy, he's right back to being our worst nightmare. Anya ran back to the dark side as soon as they'd have her. Even Willow, I had to drag back to her humanity, kicking and screaming, and it nearly killed me. Spike is the only one who actively sought his own redemption. This past year, I kept thinking that he only did it to get back into your pants, but then I realized...it doesn't matter why he did it. He deserves at least a little of my respect for the idea even occurring to him."

"You forgot about Faith. She sought redemption eventually," Buffy said quietly.

"Not the same," he said with a dismissive motion of his hand. "Not that I'm not glad she did, but her basic nature is human, not demon. She has a soul, and she's a Slayer. Going back to what was supposed to be natural for her isn't the same as Spike going _against _everything that must have felt natural to him."

She bit her lip, wondering if she should pass on the information she'd been given the night before. After a moment, she decided it would be better to tell him now than to have him find out later. "I hear Cordy went evil too."

Xander smiled that smile again. The one that made her intestines turn into razor blades so they could tear her to shreds from the inside. If she lived to be a thousand years old, she would never understand why the Powers decided to curse her friend with the unluckiest love life she'd ever seen...and she was sure that meant something, coming from the girl who'd killed her vampire boyfriend and then slept with and fell in love with another vampire he sired. It was like she'd fallen in love with a grandfather and a grandson, and thinking of it that way just made it seem...squicky.

"Went?" he asked simply.

"From what I can gather, she was possessed. She's..." She closed her eyes, and Xander was surprised to see a tear trickle down her cheek. "She's in a coma now."

"Hey," he said softly. "I never knew you were so attached to her."

Buffy wiped the tear away, then said, "I wasn't. Until Fred told me what we've missed since high school." She quickly related all the information she'd gathered back to him, and he seemed just as shocked as she'd been. "I don't think I can tell Spike this, but...I just feel so awed by her. Cordelia. Turns out...she's more of a hero than I could ever dream of being. And I'm having trouble matching up the champion of the people to, you know, Queen C."

She moved to sit next to Xander on the bench, and he made room for her, pulling his legs closer to himself so she could settle. "How do you figure? About her being more of a hero? I mean, sure, hero, definitely, but how is she more?"

"She chose it," Buffy said, so quietly he almost didn't hear her. "Being the Slayer is my destiny, and I've accepted it. It took me a long time, but I've accepted that it's my place in this world to kill demons and to die young. But Cordy...she had a chance, a _real_ chance, to get away from all this and to have all of her dreams come true, and she _chose_ this, even though she _knew_ it meant an abbreviated life span and watching the people you love get hurt and killed every day. Even knowing everything I do now...I don't know if I'd choose this. If I could go back to when I was fifteen and make a choice...I mean, I love you guys. I love Spike. But if I had a real life, I'd love people in that life too. And I'd even get to live it, on occasion. So her choosing this...I can't understand it. And I don't think I could bear it if she died."

Xander looked down, considering everything she'd said. "We all chose it, Buffy. Willow could have gotten out after high school, gone anywhere. I could have left too. Anya..." He looked away and swallowed hard. "She hightailed it out during the Ascension, and she could have stayed gone. Even you chose it. You never had to come back from L.A. after you killed Angel. But you did because it was the right thing to do. It's why we all fought. Cordy too. I won't argue that she sacrificed more...between her stardom and her humanity, no one can say somebody gave up more than her unless they died for the cause, and maybe not even then, since death doesn't usually happen by choice. Anyway, my point is, don't kid yourself, Buff. This is the life we all chose." He took a deep breath and met her eyes. "Now how do we wake her up?"

It didn't take long for Spike to find the amulet, even in the dark room. That could, of course, have had something to do with how it was still glowing. As soon as he'd opened the pocket of Buffy's bag, soft red light had poured out. He hesitantly touched the jewel, but nothing exciting happened. Finding it safe, at least for the moment, he pulled it out of the bag and held it out to Willow, the amulet dangling from the chain, which is the only part he felt inclined to touch for more than a second..

"Woah," she said, the light reflecting in her eyes. "Pretty."

"Yes, it's a very pretty little murderous trinket. You'd do well to be careful with it, Red. I wouldn't recommend trying it on."

"Funny," Willow chuckled, accepting it as he jiggled it a little to get her to take it off his hands. "You live for over a century as one of the most badass vampires around, and then you almost get taken out by a necklace." She cupped her hands around it. "It's still warm."

"Yeah, well, you're one of the most powerful witches in the western hemisphere, and you were stopped by the whelp, blathering on about yellow crayons." He shot a half smile at her to make sure she knew he wasn't offended, and didn't mean to offend her either. "Achilles heels are funny that way."

She smiled back at him. "Yeah right. We both know your Achilles heel is a certain blond Slayer. Just..." She made sure her eyes locked with his before saying her piece. "Just don't hurt her, okay?"

"No shovel threat?" he asked, surprised. He'd heard about the talk she'd given to the soldier boy, and he'd expected at least that much from her.

She shook her head. "Nope. You've got way more credit than Riley did back then."

His surprise quickly turned to confusion. "And why's that, pet?"

"Because you stayed. And you never lied about who you are. Can't say any of that about Riley. Also, you did just save the world and stuff."

"I'm sure that will eventually stop giving me a pass. Because while I appreciate this, the shock and awe from the bitty Slayers _will_ get irritating, sooner or later. Not to mention how pissy Captain Forehead is gonna be when he realizes I stole his bloody thunder."

"And got the girl to boot," Willow added cheerfully. Spike could tell that Angel hadn't spent the last few years on her Christmas list.

"He's got no right for that to affect him at all. He's in love with the cheerleader."

"_Cordy?"_ Willow screeched at a volume that nearly made his vampire ears bleed.

"Suffering cats, Red! You're liable to wake her from her coma with that racket!"

"Coma?" she asked. The exasperated look he gave her made her add, "Nevermind. I'll get Fred to fill me in."

"Sweet bird. Think she swings in your direction, pet?"

Willow chuckled. "I thought she might at first. But nah. I think she's got a thing for Wes."

He shrugged. "Pity."

"I'm with Kennedy now anyway."

Another shrug, and another, "Pity."

She rolled her eyes and changed the subject. "Think Buffy is up for some shopping today? We've got a pretty dismal selection of clothes right now, and if the amount she brought is anything like the amount I did, half of them are bloodstained."

"She said she wanted to go today. I'm sure she'd be tickled to have you along to let her know if her butt looks big in the purple stretch pants, or whatever it is you ladies do in those dressing rooms," Spike said, leading the way out of their room. He shut the door behind Willow as soon as she was out.

"Please," she said, rolling her eyes again. "Buffy would _never_ wear purple stretch pants."


End file.
